All the Words Unspoken
by Sanumarox123
Summary: Written for the Monthly Challenge: October 2013 on Paint it Red. Prompt used: all the words unspoken. Major Jisbon. Red John plays a major part in this.


**This was written for the October Monthly Challenge on Paint It Red.**

**Prompt: **_**All the words unspoken**_

**I'm not too good with any descriptions, so bear with me. **

They were never really fully _there_, in the present, except when the two were together. Patrick Jane and Teresa Lisbon were known as a team; where one went the other followed. She acted like she hated it when he 'read' her mind, and he took her insults with a stunning grin that tended to wipe the breath out of her system.

Everyone saw it, literally everyone. Hightower, Van Pelt, Rigsby, Cho… even the victims' families of the crimes they had to solve.

It was always the same. One person asked, "Are the two of you a couple? You seem so comfortable with each other, like you know each other in and out."

They exchanged hurried glances and turned faintly red, but managed to stammer out, "No, no we aren't," before quickly changing the topic back to whatever it had been before.

It was even more infuriating then watching Van Pelt and Rigsby get back together. Everyone knew that the two were meant to be, that they meant more than just friends to one another. Denial was always the key to steering the conversation back to the original discussion, but the observers knew it was just a matter of time before it happened.

During the times they had to act like a couple for the show, it was so flawlessly perfect that even the most preeminent of witnesses believed the ruse.

All the words unspoken were in their performances, in the way they treated each other, the way they exchanged glances and then looked away, and the way the two had such loving gestures that they didn't even manage to overlook themselves.

Everyone agreed that the two had such a beautiful thing, such a beautiful relationship that was just forming. Nothing could change it.

xoxoxoxox

There was a specific crime scene that changed the course of their relationship. Rather, it sped it up.

It was the day that Red John was killed.

The day had started out as a normal day, just a sunny day in California. Everyone arrived early to the office, got to work. It seemed like nothing was going to happen.

Patrick had gone off to make his daily cup of tea around noontime and had been followed by Teresa.

"Hello, Lisbon. Would you like a cup of tea?"

Lisbon had shaken her head and had moved to her consultant's side, leaning against the countertop and raised her head to look him in the eye.

"I know you know something you haven't told us. You have a feeling something is going to happen today."

Jane had smiled amusingly. "Well. I guess the ten years you have spent with me have taught you a thing or two."

She waited patiently, and sure enough after a moment he answered. "I have a feeling that today is going to be special. Something big will happen today."

Lisbon said teasingly, "Are you sure you aren't psychic? Because I'm pretty sure that's what all psychics say."

A few years ago, he would have shut down and taken the comment too seriously, but this time Jane just laughed.

"No, Teresa. I am not a psychic nor am I anything but someone who pays attention."

The two smiled at each other and he turned to lean against the countertop too. Keeping his teacup in one hand, he took a piece of her waving hair in his other palm, feeling the texture. The moment was almost too private and intimate, and the two breathed a silent intake of air somewhat in relief and somewhat in anger, when Cho came walking in.

"Boss, there's been a new report on a homicide in Napa. Oh, and Jane? It's Red John."

The two partners looked at each other and headed out, grabbing their belongings on the way to Lisbon's car.

When they got to the crime scene, they noticed that all the police were gone, and all that was left was a big red smiley face on the lawn.

Jane ran in, and Lisbon followed, ignoring the protests of the rest of the unit.

What happened after that was a blur for everyone. Shots were fired, but one person remained alive until the very end:

Red John. AKA Sheriff McCallister.

The serial killer himself had stayed in the house, putting his usual smiley face on the wall facing the front doorway. That had been his mistake, putting his mark twice.

Jane, who had taken the gun out of Lisbon's hand and moved with practiced decision as he held the gun to Red John's head, killed him. Without a second thought, the gun went off, ending a decade of torture and worry that had been on so many people's shoulders.

Jane staggered to the ground after he watched the body of the man who had killed his wife and daughter, the man who had made his life torture for so long, and the man who had brought him to the woman beside him, cradling his face in her hands, whispering, "Are you okay? Patrick, respond."

While the rest of the unit tended to Red John, Teresa hugged Patrick to her, who had finally gotten over his shock well enough to sit up.

They mumbled to each other, "It's over, it's over. It's all over. We're safe."

As they stumbled out of the house, still enveloped into one another, a sense of security came upon the two of them.

Jane turned towards Lisbon, and with sudden intensity, he grabbed her face and kissed her forehead. She closed her eyes and sighed, and then suddenly his lips were on hers. They kissed each other, not too passionate and not too gently, and it was perfect.

That was the way they knew, that sometimes, it is better to leave all the words unspoken between the two of them, because it just messed things up most of the time, and instead just act on their thoughts.

_fin_

**And for the first time… I'm proud of how it turned out. **

**My head hurts and my brain is fried, (I wrote another fic for my new multi chapter) but I am happier than I was all day.**

**-Lyss**


End file.
